to be on the path

The journey is miserable.

It's like, your train is passing through a desert and you are asleep. You just dont see the dried shrubs, the arid land, the blanched skins, the thirsty souls. And then, suddenly, you wake up...and the hot dry air gushes in through the window, your never knew and all this while your skin has been broiling in the hostile wind.
Your throat is running dry. You look for comfort. Yes, you had seen, the pot there is full of water. Hastily, you get down and dip the ladle in, the pot is dry and empty. It was a dream.
There is a spalsh, someone just threw water on your face, its soothing, your skin cools down just a bit. You see he's sittin there before you. How can that be? It's a mirage.
Yes, the pot there is full of water. You wipe the water from your face and dip the ladle in that pot. The pot is empty. It was a dream.
You rub your eyes, you see him there. It cant be. You ask your friend, she tells you he's not there. Oh yes, how can that be! Water pours down on your head, a chill runs down your spine. You are drenched. Do you see I am drenched, you ask your friend ? The water has evaporated. She tells you there is no water. The wind hasnt stopped, your skin cant bear it now. You have known the chill in water. You look for him, he's sitting there before you. Dont you see him ? She says No. He will save us from the hot wind. The hot wind? She asks.